Seventh Year
by TheLocket
Summary: Everyone knows about their son, Harry Potter. But how did Lily and James, the muggleborn, fiery, independent girl and the attractive, cocky Chaser fall in love?
1. Chapter 1

It was as though she had an alternate identity, like the superheroes in those old black and white moves, as she was one person on vacation, relaxing at her parents' house, and another the second she boarded the train. Dual personalities, both competing behind her carefully blank expression, knowing her parents loved her and that her classmates hated her. Part of her cursed the day that she had been accepted to the school, wishing for blissful ignorance, but a wild, dark side of her craved the adventure and mystery of her new life.

Staring out the window, the girl pushed a strand of her auburn hair from her face, her green eyes glinting in the pale light that shone in through the windows, staring at the sun reflecting off lakes that the train whizzed past, glancing at the rays of light illuminating the fields and woods that the her compartment thundered by. Voices were muttering outside of her compartment, and for a second the girl assumed they were talking about her, but the thought was pushed into the back of her mind as they walked past her without so much as a sideward glance.

After a while, a knock came at the glass door. It slid open to reveal a young man, staring with careful hazel eyes at the girl who was sitting alone, staring forlornly out the window, which was frosty with the approaching night.

"Hey, Evans," he called carefully, "We'll be arriving soon." The girl, Lily, blinked at his voice and turned. "You'd best be getting into your robes," continued the young man.

"Well look who's talking, Potter," responed Lily, glancing over the boy's muggle attire. "You'd best take your own advice, or McGonagall'll already have Gryffindor in the negatives."

"Didn't know you cared, Evans," responded the boy, with a superior grin while carefully running his hands through his already messy brown hair. At his primping, Lily made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes.

"Thought about my offer over break?" he asked. Lily recalled his question, asking for a date, when he had been dangling a helpless kid by his ankle in the air. James saw Lily's tiger eyes narrow.

"I'd better go change," she responded icily, flashing her eyes angrily. Even James knew that he should leave, and he did, sliding the door back and walking back to his comparment, his swagger a little exaggerated and defeated.

✴ ✴ ✴

The compartment door opened to reveal three young men, one lounging, one twisting nervously to look at James as he opened the door, the other reading a ancient-looking book.

"How'd it go?" asked the one with the leather book gently. James sighed.

"I think 'horrible' right about sums it up," he muttered, flinging himself into an empty seat with a look of disgust on his handsome face.

"Told you," murmured the only who was staring indifferently out the window.

"Way to rub it in my face, Padfoot," responded James angrily.

"I don't understand why–" began the one who looked around nervously.

"It's alright, Peter," responded the young man, closing his book.

"Yeah," said the attractive one, "he was just having girl-trouble."

"I was not–" fumed James.

"We'd better get into our robes, you know, school policy," responded the tired-looking boy, stowing his leather-bound book in one of his trunks.

"Well, just because you're Dumbledore's favorite, the Prefect, it doesn't mean that you won't always be Remus to us, and forgive us for not taking your orders," responded James acidly, adding, "And since when did you care about school policy?"

Remus knew that there was no use in arguing with James; the situation with Lily had combined with James's ego to create a horrible mixture. His aching pride reflected in his hazel eyes and made all this friends feel as totured as he. It was exasperating, Remus knew, to watch your friend make the same mistake, over and over, but there really was no use reasoning with James. He didn't have ears for his friends' advice, and had eyes only for Lily.

✴ ✴ ✴

Hogwarts seemed to be the same every year. For some reason, Lily had imagined, for her seventh and final year, banners strewn across every doorway, and hundreds more candles replacing the torches, all glittering romantically in the stone hallways. But the castle remained the same old, gray stone, the same torches flickering sparse light into the hallways, yet in some way, it felt better than false graduer and meretricious ornaments; it was comforting, and felt more like home than Lily's true house where her summer alias lived.

Like every year, Lily walked to the Great Hall, and watched the first-years as they were sorted into their Houses. Every year they seemed to get smaller, their scared faces reflecting the Great Hall's night-sky ceiling, their eyes wide, absorbing all the mystery and splendor.

Over the years, Lily did acquire a few friends, people to talk to behind teachers' backs and in the halls. But the fact that she had lived those eleven years in the dark, as a muggle, that fact alone segregated her from the rest, a barrier that some could not ignore or surmount. She felt as though stuck in her life, without anywhere to go or anything to look forward to.

The future was scary to Lily, the unsure life clouding the horizon and hiding the sun. Where would she go after Hogwarts? To her, it seemed as if school would never end, the perpetual beginning and end of classes and lessons. She could not go back to her parents, to her old life. Lily could not pretend that she did not know of wizards and witches, of spells and charms. Trying to live in two worlds, Lily and locked herself out from both of them.

✴ ✴ ✴

James surveyed the Great Hall with steady hazel eyes. His vision skimmed over the Ravenclaw table to his side. A few girls smiled and giggled when he met their eyes, others straining to look over him as the youth James had called Padfoot, who was sitting casually on the bench of the Gryffindor table. James shook his head as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts, switching his gaze to the Slytherins who were sitting haughtily, exchanging gossip and harsh stares, to the Hufflepuffs who seemed to be talking animatedly about their summers, while their buddies guffawed noisily. A few young men at the Gryffindor table hailed James, grinning and chatting, as they sat down next to him. Some were sixth years, who seemed awed by James's popularity, others were fellow seventh years, having stayed loyally by James's side through pranks and jokes in all the years.

Finally James's eyes sought Lily's sharp green ones. Their glance locked for an instant, giving James's heart a sudden hopeful leap. But then the cynical slant of her lips and gleam in her eyes had returned, and she rolled her eyes slightly towards the gleaming sky-ceiling. It was strange, James realized, how he could find so much hope and light in a glance, to have it taken away by a mere expression to be replaced with a horrible sinking feeling.

As Dumbledore rose with another of his speeches, and James vaguely heard laughter and whispers rolling through the hall in their own times, his eyes searched for Lily's as he glanced sideways at her upturned face, staring at her eyes that were glinting in the candlelight as she watched, almost reverently, the Headmaster. James knew how idiotic he must have looked, glancing every moment at the one face in the Great Hall so stolidly ignoring him. But somehow, no matter how foolish it may seem, James hoped that at least once, he would get a glimpse of those green eyes staring at him, wishing his hazel eyes were staring back at them.

✴ ✴ ✴

Lily's green eyes flicked quickly to the Potters' boy, as he walked, or rather, sauntered dejectedly, from the Great Hall. He was staring at the ground, and something made Lily's heart soften. Remus, standing beside him, appeared to be comforting him, soothing the prankster's broken pride. But that thought just made Lily shake her head in scorn – that was it. Her dismissal and his sudden pursuance of her, the only reason for all those glances and flirtation was to comfort his wounded ego. Lily did not realize that she had rolled her eyes, but James did, as he left the Great Hall.

A few girls trotted over to Lily, pulling at her hands to try and capture her attention, but her eyes kept drifting to the forlorn figure of James Potter, now shuffling his feet a few yards ahead as the group of Gryffindors made their way to the Common Room. Curiosity, that's all she felt for him. It was simple, pure curiosity that made her eyes follow him as he made his way to the Common Room that evening.

✴ ✴ ✴

Morning brought the beginning of classes and the academic year. Lily left her Common room and went to her first class of the day – Potions. Lily was one of the few students left to NEWT level Potions, having received and "O", or "Outstanding" on her OWL examinations. She neared the room, dreading and, at the same time, expecting the adulation from the potions master, Professor Slughorn. He took Lily's gift in potions as a combination of his own personal victory as a teacher and her own innate talent. Lily never knew how to react to his pompous and exaggerated praise. She neared the Potions door, checking her parchment schedule to confirm the room and class.

Pushing open the door, Lily saw one thing she had never expected: James, talking to Marietta. Lily's friend glanced over James's shoulder with something trapped in her liquid-brown eyes, but once the door had swung shut, James had leaned forward and kissed Marietta, causing a gasp to escape Lily's astounded lips. At that, James turned to survey her with cold hazel eyes.

"I–Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt –. . ." Lily stuttered, then turned and ran out the door. When it closed behind her, she leaned against the stone wall a few feet from the doorway, sinking into a desperate sitting position, running a hand through her auburn hair as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts, as if trying to erase the picture of James – the boy who she had thought followed _her,_ not Marietta, with longing – and her friend snogging in the Potions room! Something seemed wrong and alien.

Lily was confused; she had believed, truly taken as fact, that James Potter liked her. The mere possibility that Marietta had been the object of his affection, the simple idea was so strange and unreal that Lily was stuck with a sudden feeling of dread. She had scorned James for his ego and his conceit, Lily realized that she had become conceited, believing that a few words and glances from a boy was a sign of his love of her. 

James's affection had been one things that Lily had accepted, if with disfavor, to be a fixture in her life. The glances in the hall, the flirting (for that's how she saw it) in the train and between classes. All had been arguments – passionate arguments.

Lily had not realized it, but the love had been there. She had just been to blinded by her judgement of James to realize.

But some part of her mind registered the same feeling she always felt towards James: strong dislike. This anger pushed all other thoughts and feelings from her mind, giving her strength to stand. Lily could not understand if she was angry at James for kissing Marietta, or angry at James for making her angry at Marietta, but Lily was furious with the Potter boy. Her green eyes were slitted, as she recalled all those times, with him torturing those innocent schoolmates. Nothing could make her ignore his almost vicious pleasure in controlling others.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I originally wrote these two chapters a few years ago, so there may be slight inconsistencies, especially with Snape, which I've tried my best to correct. . . Any reviews would be very helpful and much appreciated!

---

Marietta pulled herself away from James, giving him a poisonous glance before sweeping angrily from the room. James sighed, and glanced longing at the heavy wooden door, as if wishing he could see through the mahogany and the stone of the walls to stare at the red-headed girl who was sitting brokenly on the floor, wishing also for something she could not have. Both wanted a simple, clear explanations, but their lives did not come with instructions.

James ran his hands hopelessly though his chestnut hair by habit, as if hoping he could ruffle his hair enough to let the disastrous scene in his head disappear. Why had he kissed her? He had been asking Marietta about Lily, circuitously, but when she had walked in, both had frozen, and then he had kissed her. The scene replayed in his head over and over, making him sigh angrily, feeling hopeless and lost, and foolhardy. His anger was boundless, but this time, it was at himself.

Professor Slughorn entered the room, wondering to himself why such a relaxed and uncaring student such as James Potter was in his first class of the day, of the school year, fifteen minutes early. Looking up, James realized that Slughorn, if faced with the tension between James and Lily, would immediately side with his favorite: Lily.

"I'll be right back, Professor," James told Slughorn. "I've forgotten my Potions book in my dormitory."

"Well, hurry up, boy," Slughorn responded. "I've a lesson planned for today, despite what you may hope." The round teacher added a wink, stroking his mustache with a ringed hand. James ducked his head by farewell, and jogged to the door.

He pulled it open, only to come face to face with Lily. She glanced at him, flicking her green eyes upwards to meet his hazel.

"All. . Alright there, Evans?" he asked, attempting a cocky smile.

"Never better," she responded, with her auburn head cocked on an angle, raising her brows above sharpened emerald eyes. She brushed past him into the classroom.

As if on second thought, she whirled around and added almost viciously, "You?" James turned around slowly, facing the angry girl.

"I feel great," James lied stubbornly, offering another superior grin, spreading his hands in the air with a faked relaxed air. Inside he was sinking. "See you in Potions," was all he said, and left, leaving another angry Lily in the Potions classroom to set up her caldron alone.

---

Potions was the same it was every year to Lily, the praises of Slughorn heaped upon her between directions, as Slughorn waddled his way around the classroom in another gold-buttoned waistcoat. James sat squarely in front of her, with Sirius seated beside him and Remus at his right hand. Every so often they would begin to whisper furiously between themselves, causing Lily to once look up as she chopped the mandrake root, and when she looked down she found to her embarrassment she had been absentmindedly chopping the table.

James was faring much worse, Lily realized. He added the wiggentree bark before the lacewing flies, causing his potion to turn maroon instead of amber. Lily was itching to correct him. Finally, when he was about to add his droxie venom before the powdered firecrab, Lily couldn't stand it anymore. Though she disliked people who mistreated others because they could, Lily frowned upon letting another suffer just as much when she could lend a helping hand or a few words of advice. Doing nothing to help was almost as bad as hurting them in the first place.

"Hey, Potter," she whispered loudly. "Potter!" At his, he swerved in his chair, his hazel eyes unreadable and sharp.

"Yes, Evans?" he inquired blandly. Lily was taken aback. She was used to James being rather over-friendly and amiable, and his sudden blithe appearance surprised her.

"You-You really shouldn't add the. . .the venom before. . ." Lily's voice trailed off as James pressed his lips angrily together.

"I never asked for you help, Evans," he responded indifferently. "Thank you, though." He turned back to his potion, and added, right in front of her horrified stare, the venom, then the firecrab, making his potion turn a nasty burnt color and smoke. Slughorn can hurrying over.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I suppose that you did not read the instructions closely," he announced, not unkindly. At James's glare, his expression softened.

"It's the first day, so I'll be kind. Half-marks, then. _Evanesco._" The potion vanished, leaving an empty caldron, as James slumped angrily back into his seat. Lily's eyes flicked from her amber colored potion to the back of James's head. A fine mist was rising from her potion as she stirred it, and the liquid deepened to a pale, spring-green. Glancing over, Slughorn recognized the potion.

"Yes, Miss Evans has correctly brewed a Growth Draft," the professor exclaimed with elation. "10 points to Gryffindor, for the excellent potion, Miss Evans!" A few angry whispers broke out in the room – among the Slytherins in their Potions class, most of them hoping, for once, their Severus would outshine Lily for a Slytherin victory.

Lily could not help smiling proudly from the praise, but for once she an angry part of her mind totally disliked the special attention she received. That sudden thought was only magnified by the disgusted groan that escaped James's lips, as she watched the back of his head sink farther down as he slumped lower into his chair. When Slughorn announced the end of class, James and his friends, Sirius and Remus, were the first out of the potions room, with James's Hogwarts robes billowing behind him like the cape of a defeated hero.

---

Disgust: that's all James felt towards Lily. Or rather, all he wished to feel for her. An annoying part of his mind kept replaying her whispering his name, her careful lips forming the words as she – James wrenched the scene from his mind. He wanted to hate her. Wanted to, but couldn't. She had dishonored him, treated him like an idiot – in front of his friends! He felt betrayed. That same, dreamy part of him recognized her kindness, argued that she was simply looking out for his best interests. But he squashed that thought like a defenseless pixie.

"Sirius?" James called, surfacing from his stupor. "Remus?" Both young men came at his summons. 

"I think it's time for a prank," James announced. Sirius, who had been lounging in a cushioned chair by the fire with a look of disinterest on his handsome face, snapped his eyes from the crackling logs to James's hazel eyes.

"But, James. . ." Remus began, hesitating as the focus switched from James to himself. "I thought we agreed that last year ended the pranks." His eyes were steady, and strong, enough so to challenge his friend's wishes. James now drew on a blase appearance that rivaled even Sirius's.

"I changed my mind," he replied simply, with a nonchalant air. He reclined in the chair, putting his feet on the wooden coffee table, atop Remus's homework, which earned him an appalled look from Remus, before the boy fixed his attention on James once more, his gentle features twisted into a scowl.

"Dammit, James! You're so contrary!" Remus exclaimed. "If this is about Lily–"

"This is about fun," James interrupted harshly, blithe manner gone, now almost livid with rage. "Our seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Time to leave my mark – our mark – as the Marauders!"

"Oh, come now, Moony," added Sirius. "Remember Filch's face when we hexed Aubrey to make him Melon-Head?"

"That was you two," demurred Remus.

"Just the same," James continued, "I have a plan."

"Now you're talking sensible, Prongs," Sirius exclaimed, slapping him roughly on the back, causing him to lurch forward, his grinning face thrown into flickering shadow by the fire.

He leaned forward, the other two also, and they began to whisper, occasionally glancing over each other's shoulders at the third-year scratching away with an owl quill, or the group of fifth-year girls who were giggling the far corner. No one seemed to find the sudden conversing of James, Sirius, and Remus at all peculiar.

---

The rest of the first day brought Lily all the classes from her sixth-year, but somehow more difficult. McGonagall, in Transfiguration, expected them to successfully transfigure a tortoise into a flock of canaries. Few children managed to get the tortoise to turn into anything within the first half-hour, and James was the first to successfully create a flock of birds, through they were strangely sparrows. Lily spent her entire class flicking her wand absent-mindedly. Somehow, James seemed in better spirits after their break that was after Potions – perhaps he had chatted with his friends. Somehow Lily wondered if something was brewing in their friendship, another joke from the infamous Marauders, the best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, or so they claimed.

James, bored with the flock of newly conjured sparrows, pointed his wand jokingly at Marcovitz, muttering, "_oppungo_". The flock of birds, suddenly with claws extended, zoomed at the innocent boy, and began to circle, screeching, darting and pecking at the boy's face. Glancing at the birds, Sirius became annoyed with the cawing, and shouted, "_silencio!"_ over the noise. The birds continued to open and close their beaks without a sound escaping, to Sirius's satisfaction.

James shot him a glance of false annoyance, then leaned his wooden chair back on two legs to enjoy the sudden chaos he had created. Students were either sitting with their hands over their heads, afraid of being James's rouge birds' next victims, or sitting and watching the scene, looking entertained as their tortoises roamed around the room. Only Lily was scowling at James, with fiery anger in her emerald eyes. She was furious: Furious that neither he nor Sirius were doing anything, that both were tormenting an innocent classmate because they could.

McGonagall reentered the room. She stopped in her tracks, finding the classroom in complete disarray.

"What's this?" she inquired angrily. "Who is responsible for this chaos?" James grinned widely, as Sirius hastened to change his guffaws into coughs.

"I am, Professor," James replied evenly, still grinning, glancing from Sirius to Remus, a smug look on his handsome face.

"I can't say I'm surprised!" the Professor exclaimed. "Sparrows? I believe we were conjuring canaries!" Now everyone was staring from McGonagall to James, as if they were having a tennis match.

"20 points from Gryffindor," she announced evenly. James still grinned, turning to Sirius and nudged him, as if McGonagall was done. She gave him one last measuring look.

"Now," she said, resuming her station at the front of the room. "The charm. Articulate." The students sat expectantly, waiting for fireworks. "Well, go on," McGonagall urged the students, who unhappily complied.

"_Avis_?" tried Lily tentatively. Her tortoise shook his head as lilies sprouted off its back. "_Avis,"_ Lily tried, more firmly for what seemed like the fiftieth time. The tortoise morphed in a large, green seagull, the exact color it had been as a reptile.

"_Finite incantantem_," Lily sighed. The tortoise-gull became a simple tortoise again.

"You'd better practice this for homework, Miss Evans," McGonagall remarked sternly, looking over her glasses at Lily, before moving on to Thompson, who was sitting next to Lily, and was attempting to pry his turtle off his hand without success.

Sighing, Lily, tried to look around her room to make her failure less, hoping to find the rest of the class also with green fowl or a flock of small tortoises. Looking over her shoulder, Lily did not feel any better.

James had a flock of yellow canaries perched on his head.

---

Transfiguration was a joke to James, as if had been last year, even at NEWT level. After the class, he was confident with the charm, enough so that he had no extra work. The thought only made him grin more – the lack of Transfiguration work left him plenty of time to plan his prank for the next morning.

"Feeling cocky, are we, Potter?" came a greasy voice from behind James in the hallway. The grin slid off his face, as he whirled, pulling his wand out to point it at the skinny, pale Slytherin who was sneering, his wand also aimed at James's throat. He mistook James's look of surprise as one of fear.

"Afraid now, are we?" asked the boy. "Perhaps Mr. Potter isn't so brave without those friends of his around to save him." The Slytherin gestured at the hallway, which was filled with third- and fifth-years, carrying books to and from classes.

"You are the one who should be afraid, _Snivellus_," James responded evenly, humor in his bland tone. "I don't see anyone to interrupt our. . ._conversation_, as she did last time." James was talking about how Lily had interfered, yelling at James to stop the last time he had cornered Snape.

"I don't need her help, I told you," Snape told the seething Gryffindor, his voice calm, but his dark eyes blazing. "That disgusting do-gooder had better stay far away from me, she'll soil my reputation." The effect of his words on James were tremendous. He took a step forward, his wand touching the other boy's throat.

"Don't make this about her," he panted, his hazel eyes dangerous.

"You brought her up," responded the other, just as angrily. "But then again, she did turn you down."

There was a flash of light, and Snape was hanging upside down. But as if remembering something, James muttered, "_liberacorpus_", and Snape came crashing down.

"Well, you have been softened by _her_, haven't you," Snape whispered furiously, his greasy hair falling into his pale face, which was twisted frighteningly in anger. He seemed unable to say her name aloud in his apparent anger.

"_Expelliarmus!" _shouted James, before Snape could even move. His wand went spinning away, leaving him standing defenseless. Somehow, Snape did not look frightened. He glanced evenly at the Gryffindor.

James returned the glance, with fire in his hazel eyes. But, glancing over his shoulder, James noted a group of girls moving his way, and saw the familiar gleam of red hair. He moved closer to Snape.

"I'll get you later," he muttered savagely to the Slytherin, his wand hand shaking in repressed anger. "You wait."

With that said, he turned and stalked off the scene, under the gaze of a pair of green eyes.

---

Sometimes, you can wonder, after witnessing something, if you truly saw what you saw, if it were possible that the specific thing could actually happen. You can begin to doubt the truth, wondering if perhaps it was all some strange hallucination.

Lily had just seen James – James Potter– walk away from a fight. It seemed to wonderful to be true. Yet her eyes had not lied. This was almost as strange, Lily realized, as James's sudden attraction to Marietta. The thought reminded Lily of the kiss she had witnessed. Had her eyes been playing tricks on her then, also?

"Marietta?" called Lily, as she sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, reading a book as the rest of the Gryffindors went to lunch. The girl came at her call, hesitating, as if not quite wanting to leave the bunch of girls she was walking with. The Portrait shut behind all of them, leaving Marietta and Lily alone by the edge of the Common Room.

"Lily, really. . ." Marietta began, "I don't want to come between you and James, and really, I didn't mean for you to. . ." Her voice, frail when she began, shrank to a whisper, then dwindled into nothing. She stood, staring at the auburn head of Lily. The girl turned, facing Marietta with a level glance.

"There isn no 'me and James'," Lily demurred. "I just wanted to make sure that you two are clear with that." Something was hidden in those green eyes, Marietta realized. Regret?

"That's just the thing," Marietta explained simply. "There is no 'me and James' either."

"What do you mean?" demanded Lily, her eyes narrowed. "I saw you two in the Potions room–"

"We were talking," Marietta continued, interrupting Lily. "Then he just leaned forward and kissed me when you came in!" She gave Lily another helpless glance with her brown eyes. Lily was silent.

"I'd better go off to lunch," Marietta muttered, walking to the Portrait, which opened.

"Marietta?" asked Lily, as the girl crossed the threshold. "What was he talking to you about?" The brown-haired girl looked trapped.

"You," she responded. The Portrait closed, leaving Lily sitting alone in the Common Room, confused.


	3. Chapter 3

Lily was so preoccupied thinking about Marrietta's comment that evening. She found that she couldn't go to the Great Hall for lunch – _he_ would be there, and she was feeling so confused. With the prospect of him with another girl gone, she realized that the whole time, those few hours she had thought he hadn't liked her, she had felt. . .sadness wasn't the proper word, and neither was jealousy. . .perhaps it had been loss. A loss, an emptiness, that had caused a sudden void within her; where would she be without James? He defined her; she had denied him, him, James Potter, Pureblooded wizard who captured the hearts of half the girls at Hogwarts. And he, he had caused her to lose the one person who knew both her identities. . .

Her frantic pacing was accelerating, and she didn't realize that she wasn't looking where she was going until she collided with a tall black blur.

The collision was spectacular; she went flying backwards, as did he. From her vantage point on the ground, she saw it was the person she had been second-most dreading to see. That very realization made her heart accelerate; would she really dread to see James the most? Was that dread that made her pulse quicken and breath come short?

However, her thoughts on James would have to wait. The black form she had ran into had drawn his wand on contact, but upon seeing the flaming red hair of the girl in front of him, he hastily pocketed it.

"Here." He shoved a hand forward to help her up.

"I can get up on my own, thanks," she snapped, his voice bringing to the surface of her mind all the anger. Of all the fake friends she thought she had acquired, of all the people are Hogwarts to call her a "Mudblood", Severus Snape was the last person she had suspected would turn on her. And he had.

She fought to stand up on her own. Once on her feet, Lily realized that he still hadn't moved.

"Lily," he began.

"Save it for someone who cares," she snapped. He stared at her, his expression smooth and emotionless, not the expression of the boy she had known at age eleven. The following silence almost made her feel regret for her harsh tone. She couldn't tell if the anger she was feeling was because it had been him who had run into her, him, the one who had turned on her, or if it hadn't been someone else. Despite her tone, he still stood there, staring at her, his black eyes uncomfortably sharp. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her hair, and demanded, as sharply as she could manage, "What?" He sighed.

"Where were you headed?" he asked, his tone as empty of emotion as his face. When had he become so detached?

"The Great Hall," Lily replied icily, crossing her arms.

"Going to see James?" He sneered the Gryffindor's name. Lily straightened.

"Why would you say that?"

"He's always talking about you." The hatred was more pronounced in his voice as his face twisted in revulsion. Lily didn't know what possessed her, but she felt her face soften.

"Was he. . .talking about me. . .today?" she asked slowly, her voice inquisitive. Snape's eyes, which had been staring at the ground in an attempt to master his anger, snapped to her face.

"Why would you care?" he asked, his voice almost a snarl.

"I could ask you the same question!" Lily replied, staring at him in anger and confusion. Again the dark haired boy before her looked away, breathing hard, biting his tongue as he fought to say something else he would later regret.

"Yes," he finally replied, his voice empty again. He stared right at her, and she was horrified to see that his black eyes were empty, like dark glass. The silence that followed was magnified by the glance he gave her, his eyes looking dark and dead. She wanted to say something, something that would make him look alive again, but too fresh was the memory of his betrayal, and she felt that all feelings of pity she felt were too freshly mingled with feelings of anger.

"What did he say?" asked Lily, angrily clenching her jaw. There was sharp intake of breath. Lily whirled around, but Snape was quicker. He had seen the hazel eyes peering out from behind the gargoyle. A stunning spell shot from his quickly-drawn wand towards the stone statue, causing a large explosion. A large chunk of stone went flying from it, right towards the girl in front of the caster.

Lily didn't react fast enough. For seven years she had been a witch, casting spells, making potions, and seven years of training urged her to draw her wand and protect herself. But for ten years she had just been a girl, a girl who had scraped her knees falling off her bike and broken her arm falling out of a tree. Her older instincts won, but the hands she moved to cover her face didn't help much.

For a moment, the two boys stood, staring at each other, their wands raised. James had straightened from his crouch behind the gargoyle, releasing the water balloon filled with Phyllis's Permanent Purple People Paint and drawn his wand in a single fluid motion. However, after a moment, the two of them realized that Lily had fallen over, and her hands had flown to her face. Snape was the first to see her, and at the moment his eyes drifted from his opponent, James glanced also. When James quickly ran those three feet to kneel at her side, Snape stood there, realizing what he had done. For a second time, he had injured the girl he loved. He wouldn't allow himself to injure her a third time. James didn't even look up to see him run away, his long black cape billowing behind him like a storm cloud.

"Lily?" he murmured. It was the first time he had said her name aloud in too many years. Her green eyes flutter, and after a moment, she struggled to sit up.

"What happened?" she asked slowly, finding, to her shock, that a shallow cut marred her temple and was bleeding slowly. James didn't respond. After sighing, he muttered, "I'd better get you to the nurse." Carefully, he lifted her up, cradling her in his strong arms. Her last thought was of the alluring scent of his cologne, but before she could wonder at why she was a few feet in the air, she blacked out.

–

Lily awoke in the hospital wing, the only remnant of previous day's injury a throbbing head. Glancing around the room, Lily realized that she was alone and the emptiness of the room was painful. It was not only the lack of people, but the utter blandness of the room, the white sheets and steel bedframes that reminded her of a hospital; there was no color, not even around her bed. No one had sent her flowers, no get-well cards stood half-opened and propped up on her bed stand. No one cared.

Except, a single chair stood between her bed and the next. Someone had been watching her sleep, someone who had left before – or when – she had awoken. She could only think of one person who would be cowardly enough to not face her when she was awake. That thought made her angry, and her fury turned to sadness as she turned over, away from the emptiness of the room, to silently cry about the emptiness in her life.

–

For six hours Snape sat in the hospital wing, watching Lily sleep, hating himself. Through the night he watched her slowly breathe, his face smooth and breathing even, the only sign of his anger the furious tears that twinkled, unshed, in his black eyes. Despite how many times he replayed those moments, his stupidity at using that derogatory epithet, his own foolishness at acting rashly, violently, an action that let Potter get away unscathed and left Lily lying, unconscious, in the hospital wing. No, he couldn't have Lily Evans any more. He didn't deserve her. And there was only one person who deserved her less.

–

Lily awoke in the hospital wing, the tears dried on her cheeks. The beams from the full moon drifted through the shades, making lines across her face. But the moonlight wasn't the only light.

Lily turned over to see the chair that had previously held the Slytherin who had accidentally hurt her now held the Gryffindor who had saved her. He was staring at her, his face drawn and worried, his chin resting on his knuckles. The light came from a taper with magically un-melting wax, the glow from which was as bright as any flashlight.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay," Lily replied, but her voice was rusty. Whether it was from sleeping for almost two days or from her bout of crying, she wasn't sure. James's bright eyes slid over her face, looking at the quickly-healing scar to the streaks of tears on her cheeks.

"Does that hurt?" he asked quietly. Lily almost didn't recognize his voice. He looked so broken, sitting there before him.

"You blame yourself," she whispered, finally understanding. His hazel eyes returned to the ground.

"If it hurts, I can go get someone. . ." His voice trailed off as he looked away. But it was too late; Lily knew that he had heard her. His eyes were sad, the cocky grin was replaced by a glum frown. She wanted to say that it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't make herself lie to him. It had been his fault, everything had; her own emptiness in life, her loss of friends. Without James and the conflict he had caused, she could have been friends with Snape. For a moment, Lily forgot the Slytherin's obsession with things dark, and remembered only those days when he spoken to her, before she had two lives, before she had learned about Hogwarts and magic, days before when her sister was her best friend and she thought Severus could be, too.

And James and he had ruined it; now, she had no future. She didn't know what her life would become after school. Lily didn't know where she would go. All she knew was that something, something very important, was missing from her life. It was as though she was missing a piece of herself, and she couldn't find it.

Looking at the brown-haired boy before her, Lily felt pity. She felt sad that her presence had caused him to feel so ruined and lost. And in the same moment, Lily wanted nothing to do with him. She wanted to roll over and wake up in her bed, eleven again, thinking that she would go to high school and become a veterinarian and be best friends forever with her sister, Petunia.

Rolling over in her metal-framed bed in the hospital wing didn't help. The silence that followed her movement seemed heavy.

"Lily?" He sounded unsure. The girl didn't move, but he continued anyway.

"Can we start over? I mean, pretend that none of this happened? That we're just two Gryffindors who're in the same year, and that you vaguely know my name and I've barely heard of you? That all I know about you is that you can make potions, and you've only heard my name in context of Quiddich?"

Silence. A single howl was heard, making Lily shudder at the sound. James turned to glance out the window behind him.

"Can you?" asked Lily, finally sitting up and turning to him, bringing the sheets around her bare arms.

"Wouldn't it be best?" he asked, his eyes glancing at her with strange intensity.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I'm not very good at pretending."

He glanced at her, his eye brows knitting.

"What does that mean?" His voice was stronger, but confused.

"That means, Potter, that you owe me an apology."

"What for?"

"If you hadn't tried to his Severus with that balloon that I wouldn't be in this bed right now, with my head throbbing."

"I asked you if it was hurting, and you said it wasn't."

"That's not the point," replied Lily, glaring at him in fake anger. He sighed.

"Fi-ne." He drew out the word. "I'm sorry." Lily smiled, feeling victorious.

"But," he said, grinning suddenly, "I should have you know. You owe me a favor."

"What for?" Lily demanded, tilting her head. James's grin widened and became mocking.

"Well, how do you think you got here?"

Another howl was heard outside the window, and James turned.

"I should be going," he smiled, a knowing smile, and stood, slinging his cloak over one arm.

"Wait, Potter, what do you mean–" Lily began, watching him walk away. With his back to her, at the door, he said, "Well, I carried you, don't you remember?"

He turned to catch her expression, grinned at the blush the turned her cheeks pink as she remembered, and smoothly slipped out the door, silently leaving Lily in the dark, empty room.


	4. Chapter 4

–

Her heart thudded as she reached for the rusted metallic doorknob. Through the thick wooden door she couldn't hear anything of the class, but she knew who she would see inside; even without opening the door, Lily could almost see the brooding form of Severus Snape, seated in the far left of the room, and could almost perfectly imagine the guilty and yet wanting way in which his eyes would flick to hers. And yet, at the same time, she knew that James Potter would be seated to the right and back of the room. His expression, she found, was be harder to imagine. Would he be grinning and coy, or as upset and downcast as he had been when they had last seen each other?

As she stood there, her arm extended, she saw the knob turn, and leapt back as Peter Pettigrew rushed out, and headed for the drinking fountain down the corridor. She stood for a moment, framed in the doorway.

"Are you coming in, Miss Evans?" inquired Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Professor," she replied, her voice quieter than she would have liked. In that moment, all the eyes in the classroom turned to look at her. And just as she imagined, she could not ignore the pair of black and the pair of hazel that stared at her, each with different expressions. A moment of curiosity and sudden weakness made her glance up at James, and saw that his expression was just as carefully bland as she imagined Severus's would be. However, upon meeting her glance, she saw that his eyes sparkled with anticipation, and the ghost of a one-sided smirk appeared on his face.

Once she got to the last empty seat, in the center and first row, James had turned back to face his friends. A sudden guilty thought made her glance towards Severus, despite her anger towards him. He was staring at the blackboard in the front of the classroom, his black eyes dead and empty. In his expression, Lily found herself finally realizing that the Severus she had met at age eleven was gone forever.

McGonagall was talking to the class, but somehow Lily could not understand what she was explaining. It was some sort of spell to make a silver spoon turn into a butterfly, but the technique and pronunciation of the incantation made no sense to Lily, and a nagging feeling told her it wasn't because she had recently had a concussion. When the professor stopped talking, she came over to talk to Lily.

"So, Miss Evans, it's simple enough." She placed a silver spoon in front of the red haired girl, urging, "Go on, it's barely NEWT standard." However, it became clear by the silence of the room that they were to do the spell nonverbally, a sixth-year trick that Lily found difficult on a normal day, let alone when her head had recently been bashed by a large piece of stone.

However, she flicked her wand and concentrated, her forehead wrinkling as she thought the spell words over and over. McGonagall was watching her, and after a moment, assigned her further practice that evening. She had begun to lecture on the theory, which the rest of the class had learned over the three days Lily had been in the hospital wing, when the bell rang and she had to answer a question of Professor Flitwick.

Lily was packing up when she knocked the silver spoon McGonagall had leant her for practice onto the floor. Its loud clatter made her sigh, and as she turned to pick it up, she saw that a tanned, strong hand was offering it to her.

"Need a hand?" asked James, a friendly smile making his eyes glimmer. To her embarrassment, she felt herself blush, and as he stepped closer and she once again breathed in the scent of his cologne, she felt herself turn ever more red.

"Thank you," she replied, trying to make her face normal-colored once more with sheer willpower. James glanced at her expression and grinned.

"So, since you missed the lesson," he began after a moment of reading her face, a cocky smile on his handsome face, "I was thinking–"

"Again, thank you," Lily said, finally meeting his eyes. "But no thank you." She turned and began to walk out of the Transfiguration room. The sound of footsteps told her she was not alone; despite her brisk pace he kept up easily, his wide stride matching several of hers.

"Are you in a hurry?" he asked, his tone good-natured and friendly. She couldn't keep up with his moods. Just a few days ago, he snapped at her, and two nights ago he was upset and cheerless, and now he was bright and up-beat.

Lily didn't respond, but concentrated on breathing through her mouth. The smell was haunting her, making her remember how he had held her, how he had carried her, his gentle tone when he had spoken her name. . .

"Would you like me to carry that?" he asked, reaching for the stack of books she clutched to her chest. She kept on walking, faster and faster down the stone corridor.

"Hey, Evans," his tone was soft and calming, but she didn't really hear his words; he had placed a hand on her shoulder, reminding her that she owed him for taking care of her. Whether she was angry at him for not leaving her alone or at herself for her inability to forget the previous incident, she did not know. But her anger forced her to turn and face him, stubbornly forcing him to look straight at her.

"You know what, Potter, you don't have to do this." Her tone was harsher than she wanted. Why was she arguing with him? She should be thanking him, thanking him for being kind and chivalrous, two words she couldn't have imagined herself using to describe James Potter only a few days ago.

"Actually," he began slowly, the humor gone from his expression, "I do." Lily couldn't stand his guilt, couldn't stand that she was the reason he was looking at her so hopelessly.

"It's not your fault," she managed to reply, although her tone was still rather harsh. James gave a sad laugh.

"Do you know what Dumbledore told Snivellus 'n me?" At his epithet, Lily involuntarily winced. James noticed; he looked up, side-tracked. "You still _forgive_ him?" he demanded, suddenly angry. "After everything he's done to you, everything he's called you?"

"And why have you been so much better to me, Potter?" she demanded, feeling, to her shame, tears filling her eyes. It was her friend who was causing all this, her friend who had teased her for who she was, the same friend who had told her that being a witch was not a bad thing.

"I told you, Evans," he choked out, staring at her, his face pale with anger and emotion, "I'd never – never. . ."

The sincerity of his words was horrible for her. In that moment, Lily truly believed that James Potter would never do that to her. That James Potter would be kinder to her. That the self-absorbed, selfish, immature Gryffindor would be better for her than the one person in the Wizarding World whom she had truly trusted.

It was that realization that left her wordless, that made her run from James, that made her flee to her dormitory where she knew that she could be alone.

As she ran from the hallway, blinded by her tears, she didn't see the lurking form of Severus Snape. Because, despite his own acknowledgment that he wasn't good enough for her, he still believed with all his being that James Potter was the least deserving of the two of them.


End file.
